And seeing there a lady bright

So rudely tied unto a stake,
As well became a valiant knight,

He straight to her his way did take.
Tell me, sweet maiden, then quoth he,
What caitiff thus abuseth thee?-

And lo! by Christ his cross I vow,
Which here is figured on my breast,
I will revenge it on his brow,

And break my lance upon his crest :— And speaking thus, where as he stood, The Dragon issued from the wood.

The lady that did first espy

The dreadful Dragon coming so, Unto St. George aloud did cry,

And willed him away to go

Here comes the cursed fiend, quoth she,
That soon will make an end of me.

St. George then looking round about,
The fiery Dragon soon espied,
And like a knight of courage stout,
Against him did most fiercely ride.
When with such blows he did him greet,
He fell beneath his horse's feet.

For with his lance that was so strong,
As he came gaping in his face,

In at his mouth he thrust along,-
For he could pierce no other place ;

And thus within the lady's view
This mighty Dragon straight he slew.

The savour of his poisoned breath

Could do this holy knight no harm;

Thus he the lady saved from death,

And home he led her by the arm;
Which when King Ptolemy did see,
There was great mirth and melody.

When as that valiant champion there
Had slain the Dragon in the field,
To court he brought the lady fair,
Which to their hearts much joy did yield.

He in the court of Egypt staid,

Till he most falsely was betrayed.

That lady dearly loved the knight,-
He counted her his only joy;
But when their love was brought to light,
It turned unto their great annoy :
The Morocco King was in the court,
Who to the orchard* did resort

Daily, to take the pleasant air,-
For pleasure so he used to walk,—
Under a wall he oft did hear

St. George with lady Sabra talk:
Their love he shewed unto the King,
Which to St. George great woe did bring.

Those Kings together did devise

To make the Christian knight away

In our ancestors' days, orchard appears to have been the term for a large pleasure-garden, laid out in alleys and grass plots, with arbours and knots of flowers; and at the same time furnished with abundance of fruit-trees of various kinds;-a much more pleasant place, it is likely, than the more regular and ornamented inclosures now in use. We meet with perpetual instances of this expression in our ancient poets:

""Tis given out, that sleeping in mine ORCHARD,
A serpent stung me."

Hamlet, i. v.

With letters him in courteous wise,
They straightway sent to Persia:
But wrote to the Sophy him to kill,
And treacherously his blood to spill.*

Thus they for good did him reward
With evil, and most subtilly,
By such vile means they had regard
To work his death most cruelly;
Who, as through Persia land he rode,
With zeal destroyed each idol god.

For which offence he straight was thrown
Into a dungeon dark and deep,

Where, when he thought his wrongs upon,
He bitterly did wail and weep:
Yet, like a knight of courage stout,
At length his way he digged out.

Three grooms of the King of Persia,

By night, this valiant champion slew,
Though he had fasted many a day;

And then away from thence he flew,
On the best steed the Sophy had;
Which, when he knew, he was full mad.

*The classical reader will remember the story of Bellerophon,-Hom. Il. vi. 168,-from whence, perhaps, this idea was originally borrowed.

To Lycia, the devoted youth he sent,

With tablets sealed, that told his dire intent.

Now, bless'd by every power who guards the good,

The chief arriv'd at Xanthus' silver flood:

There Lycia's Monarch paid him honours due:
Nine days he feasted, and nine bulls he slew.

But when the tenth bright morning orient glow'd,
The faithful youth his monarch's mandates shew'd.

The fatal tablets, till that instant seal'd,

The deathful secret to the king reveal'd.

РОРЕ.

Towards Christendom he made his flight,
But met a Giant by the way,
With whom a combat he did fight
Most valiantly a summer's day :
Who yet, for all his bats of steel,
Was forced the sting of death to feel.

Back over the seas with many bands

Of warlike soldiers soon he past; Vowing upon those heathen lands,

To work revenge,-which at the last,
Ere thrice three years were gone and spent,
He wrought unto his heart's content.

Save only Egypt land he spared,
For Sabra bright her only sake,
And, ere for her he had regard,

He meant a trial kind to make.
Meanwhile the King overcome in field,
Unto St. George did quickly yield.

Then straight Morocco's King he slew,
And took fair Sabra to his wife,
But meant to try if she were true,

Ere with her he would lead his life.
And though he had her in his train,
She did a virgin pure remain.

Toward England then, that lovely dame

The brave St. George conducted straight;

An eunuch also with them came,

Who did upon the lady wait.

These three from Egypt went alone-
Now mark, St. George's valour shewn.

When as they in a forest were,
The lady did desire to rest;
Meanwhile St. George to kill a deer,
For their repast did think it best-

Leaving her with the eunuch there,
Whilst he did go to kill the deer.

But, lo! all in his absence came
Two hungry lions, fierce and fell,
And tore the eunuch on the same

In pieces small, the truth to tell;
Down by the lady then they laid,
Whereby this shewed she was a maid.

But when he came from hunting back,
And did behold this heavy chance,
Then for his lovely virgin's sake,

His courage straight he did advance,

And came into the lions' sight;
Who ran at him with all their might.

Their rage did him no whit dismay,

Who, like a stout and valiant knight,

Did both the hungry lions slay,
Within the lady Sabra's sight,
Who all the while, sad and demure,
There stood most like a virgin pure.

Now, when St. George did surely know
The lady was a virgin true,

His heart was glad that erst was woe,
And all his love did soon renew;

He set her on a palfrey steed,

And towards England came with speed.

Where having in short space arrived
Unto his native dwelling place;
Therein with his dear love he lived,

And fortune did his nuptials grace.

They many years of joy did see,
And led their lives at Coventry.

PERCY.